Pinkie Pie's Road to Recovery
by ShiningArmour96
Summary: Pinkie Pie has been habouring a deep secret. She has serious depression, and it's getting worse. Can her friends help her out before it's too late. Dedicated to Tarry. I will also be there for you.


I'm the pony everypony knows, the pony that everyone looks too for a good time, a laugh, but I can see it deep in their eyes that they don't want me. Unwanted, that's what I am. I can feel how uncomfortable they are, it oozes from them. They are just waiting for me to slip, to fall, so they can have their laugh, then slip out the back door unnoticed, leaving me alone once again. Even my so called friends don't want to be around me. I am a freak, just a crazy pony to them, a cheap laugh if I ever did see one. Oh, I know what they think, "Why doesn't she just grow up and act like other ponies her age," They don't want me around, and I don't blame them, why should they, I don't even want myself.

I am a failure, a disappointment. All I see when I look in the mirror is a disgrace, nopony, a discarded shell of somepony that I used to be before all this. No pony realises it but I'm just a big fake. Everything about me is fake, a pony made illusion, one fathomed by my imagination to hide myself from who I really am. My smile is fake, I have no reason to be happy, it's just simply a ruse, so no pony else bothers caring for me, I am not worth caring for. My laugh, why that is just an extension of my lie. But my parties, they are the fakest of them all; I just put on parties to be around other ponies, happy ponies, to lose myself in their happiness, sucking off them like a leech, feeding on their happiness. I drown my sorrows in their joy. I thief off them, off my friends, just to feel that little bit of comfort, just to feel slightly normal. I feel terrible about it, using them like that. I'm not worth their happiness, it too good for me. My only reason I do it, is... is sometimes I think it's all that keeps me alive. Rainbow's laugh, Twilight's smile, Fluttershy's giggle. Help me though the day.

I am weak, weak and useless. I can't even remember the last productive thing I did. Every time I try to do anything, I fail. When I was partying at the Gala, everyone just stared and disapproved of me, made me feel; unwanted, FAIL! And don't forget my silly foolish attempt to get the bison and ponies to stop fighting, Thinking something I did would work FAIL! Every time I try it ends in disappointment, failing, me falling father and father down a whole. And so I have just stopped trying, if you don't try you can't fail, right? I only thing I know, the only thing I can do right, is throwing these stupid parties, parties other ponies forget in five minutes flat. I will never be important, no pony will ever need me.

I need to stop thinking like this. At least that's what they said. The reason I left the rock farm for Ponyville is my family didn't want me anymore. Who would? They said I needed help, and so they were sending me away. I knew what they meant, I was unwanted, disowned, had overstayed my welcome. Sent away for help, and where was this help? I know there had been counsellors and therapists, but they hadn't helped. They just made me realise how much more of a failure I was. How I couldn't be helped, unhelpable, a waste of time, effort and money. They pretended like they cared, pretended they wanted to help, made hollow promises that it was going to be all right, I would get better, but they just use me for my money and then forwarded my on to some other counsellor, made me somepony else's problem, somepony else's mess. I hate it. I wish I didn't have to be so weak. I wish I could be some other pony. Pretty like Rarity. Strong like A.J. Fast like Dash. But no, I am just weak useless little Pinkie Pie, and maybe that's all I deserve.

My one true friend, the only one I can trust to never let me down, be it rain, sun or snow is my trusty, rusty old razor blade. Small cuts, discreet little cuts. Under my hooves, under my belly, hidden from the view of other ponies, I am not worry anypony worring about me. The pain comforts me, helps me though the day. The pain lets me feel something, anything. The pain lets me know that I am real. Reminds me that I am useless, I deserve it, deserve the pain. And anytime I feel worth anything it only takes a quick glance at my scars to remind me that I am not worth it. I've been thinking about ending it lately. It's no point staying around to mope in my own tragic existence, no one would miss me. But that would be unfair, leaving some pony to clean up the mess, bury the body; I'm not worth the effort. Still it would be nice to escape from all this.

Just cause I'm the Element of Laughter doesn't mean I can't cry.

...

Mrs. Cake softly closed the door, Pinkie was getting worse, and this did not bode well. She called her husband over. After whispering the situation in his ear both ponies agreed they need to call a meeting with her friends. They quietly tiptoed away from the door and left Pinkie to herself.


End file.
